All End in Violence
by Sunday2am
Summary: "Dear reader, I hope you have the heart to forgive me. I should have known better, we were bound to end in tragedy." In a secluded manor where the crazies gather, childish Clary falls in love with a golden haired boy. But how can this love be reciprocated if Jace is only hiding his bloodthirsty self? Was it a mistake to love him or the only way to stay alive? #crazy clace #angsty


**Hi Everyone. **

**This is my new story based on my older story called Let Not Light See on my other account. I recommend you to not read that one because a. it sucks, and b. it's going to give away how this one ends. Anyway, enjoy! **

**0\. PROLOGUE**

Dear reader,

I hope you have the heart to forgive me, even after everything I am about to tell you. She and I met in summer haze. She was the kind of girl who never held hatred in her heart. I was me - my violent self with all the rage and bruised fists. She gave me peace and I gave her war. I wanted to drown her in July, kiss her in October. And God, in December... I should have known better, we were bound to end in tragedy.

You must know, I never meant all this to happen. It began with no more than a thought, really. I'd imagined that the most insane you could get is to kill your loved one. So it began with my dog when I was nine. With trembling hands, I ended her.

That faded away with years, left me unscathed. But I should have known better that day I met her, in the midst of a harsh summer eight years ago. I remember her name as Clary. I was young, only eighteen, and she was sixteen.

I was an angry child back then. I always had my way with people, but there was a constant lump in the back of my throat. She, on the other hand, had the mind of an eight year old trapped in adolescent reality.

I still see her from time to time. She does not give me time to miss her, to ease her off the back of my brain. And once again I take myself back to that very day I regret, placing myself under the unforgiving sunlight.

**Jace, summer, eight years ago**

"Aline, you're not thinking straight."

"I gave you everything!" She exclaims. "What more do you want from me? I gave you everything, _everything! _You told me I was beautiful, but I somehow bored you. What happened? Why won't you love me?"

"Cutie," I say softly. "I don't love anyone."

"You feed on touch," she gasps. "On others' misery, pain, hunger…"

I stare at her for a moment, mildly amused.

"And everything withers down beneath my touch, for I am the death himself," I smirk at my dry humor.

"Don't you dare make fun of me, Jev. You, are, reprehensible," she breathes the words out as if the words were meant to pain her, not me. "No wonder they all call you the Beast. You turn love and twist it in the sickest way possible."

"You love me?"

I take a step closer to her, and she looks at me with those sad eyes, clutching her arms as close to her as possible.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" She finally speaks. "The torment, it's all just a joke to you."

"You love me?" I repeat, bringing my arms around her.

"Yes. YES. I love you, of course I do-"

"Then be gone."

My whisper echoes around the room and her body loosens in my embrace, blood dripping down onto the wooden floor, pooling around our feet. Aline gasps out a few incomprehensible words before collapsing onto the ground, my knife deep in her stomach.

"Isabelle!" I yell, pulling the bloody knife out of the body.

Izzy rushes into the room, her face blank as always.

"Get rid of the body."

She quickly drags Aline's body out of the room, leaving a trail of dark, red blood. After she finishes cleaning up the mess, I order her to sit.

"How's your brother doing, Izzy?"

"He's feeling better. But you know Alec. He'll get into another fight even before his arm is healed."

"And I've always admired him for that."

"_Boys_," she rolls her eyes. "Anyway, have you heard about the new girl?"

"No, what about her?"

"Apparently, she's not going to fit in. I mean, she's as crazy as everyone else, but she won't last a week."

"A weakling?"

Izzy nods. "Simon talked to her once, and he says she acts like a child."

"Perfect prey," I grin.

"Not again, Jev," Izzy groans. "I'm tired of cleaning up your mess."

"Oh come on, Iz. I know you secretly like doing what you do. You're savage, just like me. That's why I like you so much. Don't tell me now you don't enjoy it."

"That doesn't matter. I'm trying to change, and so should you. I might actually grow to like this girl, she seems sweet."

"Sweet doesn't get you out of the death's way, you above all should know that. There's a reason we're survivors."

In the Manor, we call ourselves the rebels, each inhabiting a room in the building. We are the rejects of the society, the damaged goods, the side-effects of the ever-evolving humanity. We've been sent here to meet our ends on our own, surrounded by fences and barbed wires, separated from the rest of the society.

As you can imagine, deaths - suicides, murders, mysterious deaths - occur on a regular basis, and I'm responsible for more than half of the number.

"Listen, Izzy," I put my hand on her shoulder. "None of us can wash away the blood on our hands. Better not try."

A sudden roar outside interrupts us. Another fight. People here go crazy when they get to witness death. Izzy walks over to the window and draws the curtain. Under the glaring sun, I spot a new face cornered against the wall of the building, a knife held in front of her.

"Sebastian," Izzy murmurs, her arms crossed and lips tight.

"Trying to take what's mine," I shake my head, swing the window open, then jump out of the window, landing on the ground in a solid move.

"The Beast!" The crowd scrambles away, shrieking and recoiling at the sight of me.

The girl, on the other hand, attempts to take shelter behind my back, whimpering. Funny, when it should be me who she fears.

"Sebastian!" I holler as he takes a couple steps backwards, away from me and the girl. "Attacking an unarmed new girl? I didn't think even you could swoop so low."

"Well," he licks his lips, sweat dripping off his forehead. "You of all people should know what it's like."

Our audience gasps and murmurs as they are familiar with my reputation.

"My my," I let out a small laughter. "Someone thinks they're smart. But obviously not smart enough to save their own life."

My grin turns bitter as I take step closer to him. People here know better than to tempt me, but Sebastian has always been a little slow. I suppose he needs to be taught a little lesson.

"We'll see who saves themselves in the end."

As soon as he finishes the sentence, I knock the knife out of his hand, making the girl squeal as it falls with a sharp metallic noise. As Sebastian dives to reach for the knife, I kick him hard in his stomach, taking out my own knife. Before he can recover, I throw it, and it slices the tip of his ear, making him howl in surprise.

The crowd halts in its whispers. I sense wetness on my left arm, and turn to see the new girl burying her face on the crook of the arm, tears streaming down her face.

"What's your name, Angel?"

"It's… Clary," she gasps out her name.

"Off you go now, Clary."

She sniffs and runs away from the rest of us, just as I see Isabelle walking to me, shaking her head.

"You really are cruel," she says. "I shouldn't even bother to stop you from hurting her, huh?"

"I only do what I have to do."

**I. The Scar**

Lunch is an alone time for me. Izzy and I aren't as close as friends, and she sits with her brother and others. Everyone else here either hates me, fears me, or both, and I don't mind.

The cafeteria is a hellhole so I always bring my food outside to a picnic table. I'm causally biting into my sandwich when a certain redhead sits at my table beside me.

"Well well, look who's made it through for another hour."

"I just wanted to say thank you," she says, blushing. "For saving me this morning."

"You should know, it won't happen again. You need to learn how to survive on your own, Angel."

"I just-" she starts breaking down into tears again. "Is it always like this? This place, why is everyone so mean?"

Call me sick and twisted, but her tears turn me on.

"Shh," I bring one arm around her shoulder, squeezing it. "You can't cry around here. It's going to make you an easy prey."

"I only wish…" she muffles her sobs in her palms. "I only wish everyone was as kind as you."

I smile at her, wondering how she could be so ignorant. Sweet little girl, there is so much in the world you don't know. Where was kindness in my dark and lonely childhood? Where was kindness in this big, cruel world? Kindness doesn't stop your father from beating you, and it doesn't get you someone who's not afraid of you.

"You can't expect kindness in this place," I say. "Everyone is just trying to survive. And so should you."

"I just miss home… And Mommy… And… What are those?"

I follow her gaze to my bare wrist under the loose sleeve.

"These?" I roll my sleeve to show her the scars buried deep. "These are attempts."

"Attempts? For what?"

I take her fingers off from my wrist, giving them a gentle squeeze before I let go.

"You know where you go when you die, Angel?"

"Mommy said we all go up to the clouds."

"Well, with these," I tell her with all my sincerity. "You can get closer to those clouds for a while."

"Then have you?" She asks, tilting her head. "Gotten closer?"

Many times. Dark red blood pooling on the bathroom floor, banging my head against the sink, throwing up in the toilet, cleaning my own blood off the cold hard tiles.

"Of course I have," I offer her a small smile which she returns. "Here, let me show you."

I take my pocketknife out, studying her reaction carefully. She doesn't show a sign of surprise, but seems to be curious nonetheless. I press it against the skin of my wrist, just enough to draw fresh red blood forming a line across it. The brunette gasps.

"Doesn't that hurt? Mommy told me not to touch sharp things."

"That's what it's all about, Angel. You can get to the clouds only when you have suffered enough. More pain, all the better."

Then I offer her the knife. I don't want her trying it yet, but I know she'll refuse it for now.

"I don't…" Of course. "I don't think…"

"You don't have to try it now," my voice is as soft as a feather. "Do it whenever you're sad. Think of me. And I will protect you."

**Clary**

I watch that boy who saved me talk to a girl with delicate but blank face in the common room from behind the wall. I can't tell if they're friends or enemies.

_…__maybe she's his girlfriend…_

SHUT UP!

Oh no, why would I feel so horrible at the thought of them together? Mommy said you can't fall in love with someone you just met.

I hear them saying goodbye and just as he leaves the room, I walk up to the girl and say hi.

"You're that girl that almost got killed this morning, aren't you?"

"You can call me Clary," I reach my hand out for a shake, but she ignores it.

"I never asked for your name."

Ouch.

"I just wanted to…" my voice comes out way too quietly. "I just wanted to ask you…"

"Just spit it out, girl."

"You know that guy with dark hair who saved me this morning? That you were just talking to."

"You mean Jace?"

"Could you give these flowers to him?"

I show her the dandelions I've picked from the garden.

"Oh god," she says with a dramatic sigh. "Do you like him too?"

My cheeks grow hot and my heart starts to race.

"Do you think _he_ likes _me_?"

"Sweetie," she says. "Jace doesn't care about you. He doesn't care about anyone. Don't get delusional and regret it."

"But he… he saved me."

She shakes her head and sighs, which hurts me a little because that's what Mommy used to do every time I do something stupid.

"He's just doing it for fun, kid. Don't read too much into it."

"We talked… during lunch. He told me I should think of him whenever I'm sad."

"I don't have time for this," she starts walking backwards, away from me. "Don't be stupid. No one here cares about you. You've only got yourself."

Something hot is burning in the back of my throat. No one here cares about me. I've only got myself. Where is Mommy?

Tears start streaming down my face. Oh no, I've promised myself to not cry anymore. What will Jev think of me? He probably doesn't like crybabies.

I run into the nearest bathroom, trying to muffle my sobs. I run toward a shower cubicle and push the curtains aside and gasp in shock when I see _him _turn around, all naked.

He swears loudly, hiding his stomach, but I've already seen it. The thick, long scar etched into his skin, almost seemingly pulsing and crawling against his tight skin drenched in water. How did he get that scar? Who would do such terrible thing to him?

Before I can finish another thought, I'm thrown against the wall behind me, my head ringing as it hits the cold ceramic tile, his beautiful hands wrapped around my neck. My eyes start tearing up again in shock and pain.

"What have you seen?" He roars. "WHAT HAVE YOU SEEN?"

"No-no-nothing!" I gasp the words out, choking.

"You better not have, if you want to live," he says, hissing.

"Please… Please…"

"Please what?"

I claw at the back of his hands, begging him to let go. My head starts to spin. Drops of water fall from his wet hair. His hot breath fans across my face, and I can barely open my eyes to stare into his golden, angry eyes. It's as if he's a different person, someone insane, someone… murderous. Is he going to kill me?

How can he be so scary when he is so beautiful?

"You see, _Angel_," he clenches and unclenches his jaw. "Everybody here is afraid of me. And so should you. Nobody who's seen what you've seen is alive today."

Then he lets go of my neck, and I gasp for air in fear, barely able to look at him.

"And I promise you," he whispers. "You won't be either by the end of the week."

With that, he leaves, his clothes in one hand, leaving me confused and completely devastated.

Thanks for reading :)

**I could write about vampires and werewolves and love triangles, I simply choose not to.**

**Please leave a review if you could, any constructive criticism is welcome.**


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